Ice Fox
by diverseinterests
Summary: The year is 1918, The Great War has ended and the world can breathe easy, but not all people enjoyed the same bliss. In a different time of history, with a different set of circumstances, our beloved princesses might have turned out to be quite different people. CANCELLED: Renamed and rewritten as Operation: Frozen Heart
1. Sisters in Arms

A/N: This was an idea I had after seeing an image of these two as Nazis, and it occurred to me that given the right circumstances it wasn't entirely unlikely. So I wrote this, you know the drill, read and review, enjoy the story!

Anna and Elsa loved their home, they always had, but it would be difficult to claim that they had a good childhood. It had been their father's decision to enter the war, and the country had stood behind him. The choice to join their powerful southern neighbors was a popular one, and many mockeries were made of their "cowardly" neighbors for their refusal to join the fight. The King ended up a hero, when he incurred an injury while leading a charge to capture a crucial enemy position when the odds were stacked against him. The fact that he had taken a bullet only made more popular, it humanized him even as he was deified by the press. At the time they rejoiced, he came home as an honored war hero, to much pomp and fanfare. But the celebration was not to last long.

Only a short time later the war began to turn against Arendelle and her allies. The news that came in was no longer optimistic and hopeful. At first the papers predicted a turnaround, speculating about how this was all an elaborate plan by high command. Then later they started publishing only fluff pieces to keep spirits up, making much out of even the smallest victories. But eventually only those in denial could do anything but admit their imminent defeat. Then came the shortages. As the allies closed in, common things became scarce. Not only were children dressed in flower sacks, and cars taken off the road to save fuel for war machines, even food and basic medical supplies were difficult to come by. When the treaties were signed at Versailles, much of the world rejoiced at peace. But peace only came to some, others groaned under the strain of reparations.

It was a dark time in Arendelle, but not without light, even at the bleakest of time, the royals became a family, welcoming their first daughter into the world, naming her Elsa, after one of the great queens. But things only got worse from there, and some speculate that it was from pure desperation that the royals fell pregnant again 3 years later. When Anna was born the once prosperous Arendelle was a burnt out husk, production centers smashed by Allied artillery, entire towns reduced to rubble by invading armies. Food was scarce and money was worthless. They were looked upon with hate, even as they suffered, but beneath the suffering, burned an ember of hatred, fanned by a thirst for revenge. And in no one was this ember brighter than the older of the two princesses.

In this time everyone lacked something, many barely surviving. And, ever caring monarchs, the King and Queen forewent what little was scraped aside for them and regularly went out to give to those in greater need than they. But as does everything, their charity had a price, the King fell terribly ill when Anna was a small child, his wounds finally catching up to him. Their mother, already weakened, followed shortly after. And so it was that these two young girls, the oldest no more than 10, were left alone in a world of smoking ashes.

For another 11 years the two young princesses continued on, each growing into beautiful, though extremely different people. They became known as the fire and ice. Elsa was known as the Ice Princess, though less polite terms were used for her in private. She was cold and uncaring, as the reigning monarch of Arendelle she bore the responsibility for the suffering of her people. She was exceedingly affectionate with her sister, pouring all the love of an entire family into her, shielding her from the world. But that was all, she spurned relationships with an unmatched coldness, rejecting suitors and friends so often and so ferociously that a rumor persists to this day about the true nature of the relationship between the two voluptuous and perpetually single young women.

In stark contrast, Anna was bright and lively, a prankster and an optimist, and her popularity with the young men was not entirely discouraged. The older princess was unquestionably responsible for keeping the country running, but any citizen of the small country would tell you that it was the more lively princess that kept the country together. She was charming and vivacious, always in the background of her powerful sibling, smoothing ruffled pride and softening the blow of bad news. She was universally liked, and it was only their combination that kept prevented the tiny nation from falling into anarchy.

But Elsa never forgot the wrongs done to her country and her family by the rest of the world. She re-forged the alliance with their southern neighbor, strengthening it, working together to amass a military machine to crush those who had conspired against them and murdered her parents. When the time came for war shortly after she turned 21, she didn't hesitate, and refused to shrink from what she considered to be her duty. Leaving a council of trusted advisers to run the country in her absence she and Anna joined the Waffen SS. Anna charmed her way in, and Elsa got in almost by pure force of will.

There track record quickly silenced those who protested their entry. And within a short time Elsa was in command of an elite infiltration unit. She ran it with an iron fist, her training regime so tough that even recruits directly from the elite SS washed out an astounding rate. But her methods were not without justification, her teams were ruthless, and had a 100% success rate in demolition and prisoner extraction. She was the stiletto in the boot of the Nazi war machine, but she didn't do it alone. Anna was her silver bullet. Codenamed Red Fox, she was deployed whenever the Ice Queen needed information, or someone killed, and couldn't or wouldn't trust anyone else. The curvaceous agent quickly demonstrated that she was more than comfortable in her own skin, revealing whatever she (or her sister) deemed necessary to get what was needed.

After 4 years the war was far from over, but the Ice Queen and Red Fox continued to wreak havoc. Allied supply lines were in chaos, commanders were forced to give orders from miles away at sea. Nowhere was considered safe. Alone in her private chambers with her sister, Elsa tossed a report on yet another successful operation onto the desk, before walking over to where her sister lay reclined, a wicked smile spread across her face.

"Congratulations on yet another successful operation, Agent"

"My pleasure, Commander"

"Did you lock the door?"

"Don't worry, we won't be disturbed" came the whispered response

The guards, standing outside thick oak doors, smirked ever so slightly, they wouldn't be seeing the commanders again tonight.

Meanwhile, halfway around the world in the Southern Isles, two men sat across from their commanding officer, as he slid a folder across the table.

"Hans, Kristoff, you have distinguished yourself in combat and counter espionage, you're the best we've got, but now we have another mission for you, by far the hardest you've ever received"

Hans opened his folder, "You want us to take down The Red Fox?" he gaped

"And the Ice Queen?!" Kristoff interjected

The looked at each other, and there was a momentary nod

"We accept"


	2. Operation Frozen Heart

A/N: This was supposed to be a oneshot, but then I couldn't resist putting that cliffhanger at the end, and I was having fun, so here's chapter 2. Also, one reviewer said Hans and Kristoff were the villains, which considering Anna and Elsa are basically Nazis, is an interesting perspective.

"Welcome to Operation Frozen Heart, boys" The general said, standing, "you are an honor to your countries, if you'll follow me we'll bring you up to speed" he said, walking out from behind his desk

Hans and Kristoff hadn't always been friends, in fact, it was often hard to tell they were friends now. Hans was a prince from the Southern Isles, 13th in line for the throne behind his older brothers. He knew that he was never going to make it anywhere by inheritance, and nepotism was never going to play in his favor, and so decided to make his own way in the world by joining up with the Allied forces on the Eastern front. But of course, why work if he didn't have to? He planned to enlist, then get to a high enough officers rank before the real fighting commenced that he could sit in the back and collect a fat paycheck and medals. It was going pretty well, Hans may not be first in line for the throne, but his charm and wit were always his strongest features. He could read people, say what they wanted to hear, subtly stroke ego and poke at insecurities in order to get what he wanted. After basic training he had been working all the angles, and talking up all the right guys, he was seen as a outstanding soldier by all viewers, and was in line for a nice promotion. And then came Kristoff.

Kristoff Graniteson had volunteered from far up north, and he was as straight laced as he was broad shouldered. He was a driven man, coming from a village that had borne the brunt of the first days of the Blitzkrieg, he pushed on through a sense of duty to his fellow men. Within days of joining up he had out ran, out shot, out climbed, and out hauled every soldier in the division. Of course Hans saw that he would be a good friend to have and had tried to cozy up to him, but the friendly and seemingly naïve mountain man would have none of it, he simply obeyed orders and kept on going, a steely, focused look in his eye.

The dynamic in the camp changed after Kristoff arrived, Hans didn't really have time for schmoozing any more, since whenever he tried he always found out later that Kristoff had beaten some new record or impressed another officer. And so began the unspoken competition between them. Kristoff may have had the advantage of muscle, but Hans was by far more cunning. On the units first deployments both men led squads to capture enemy machine gun nests. Kristoff had charged right in as if the bullets weren't even there, and Hans, refusing to lose the glory, yelled "Right! Roger that!" as if he and Kristoff had planned it, and rushed in the opposite direction.

They both received a Bronze Cross and a promotion to corporeal for their actions, and an assurance that they would be kept in the same unit, since they worked so well together. This was to become a pattern, Hans couldn't openly tell anyone that he didn't want to keep rushing into danger with Kristoff, as that would make him look bad. And for his part, Kristoff refused to be outdone by a foreigner with no skin in the game, but also knew that Hans was not the enemy. After seemingly every engagement Hans and Kristoff would stand side by side for another set of medals to be pinned to their chest. And after every engagement they would stand arm in arm as they told the tale. Though they considered each other rivals, it wasn't long before they had left everyone else far behind. Always together on assignments, they knew each other's very thoughts in order to be able to never be outdone. There had never been any animosity between them, and though they would never admit it to themselves, they trusted each other with their lives.

For 3 years they fought on, reaching the rank of Captain and in the meantime hearing about, then learning to fear the operatives of Ice Fox. Their competition never stopped for a moment, though it had lessened in intensity, each acknowledging he would never outdo the other. It came as a surprise and enormous frustration to their commanding officer when news came that they had been reassigned, and were to fly to London for new orders.

It was there they were told that they were to hunt down and destroy Ice Fox, specifically targeting The Ice Queen and Red Fox, who no one even was even sure were two different people, since no living person had ever seen either and lived. They received their briefing from Major Maximus, an enormous man who could stand shoulder to shoulder with a horse and still look large. And within 48 hours they were at a listening post in Southern France, working with Pierre, the leader a local cell of the French relationships with local informants and keeping their ears peeled for any activity that was even possibly related to Ice Fox.

A/N: This chapter didn't have nearly as much time to refine, does it show?

IMPORTANT  
Chapter 3 has been radically changed, so if you read it before 8/3, read it again, personally I think the new one is better.


	3. Mon Cher

A/N IMPORTANT This is a re-write, if you've already read chapter 3 this is completely different. Heads up, it contains graphic sex and violence

Pierre trudged through town, as casually as he could without arousing suspicion. In peacetime this might have been a cheerful jaunt, but when your home town is enemy occupied land, even the cheeriest of steps is subdued. It wasn't as bad as some other places, they were far from the front, and the soldiers here were more concerned with patrolling the bars and whorehouses than the streets.

This of course meant that by extension, Pierre also spent a lot of time in these places, playing the cheerful drunk, a harmless inhabitant of the town, too stupid to make any use of the tactically sensitive information that poured from the mouths of officers whose lips had been sufficiently lubricated with cheap drinks. Pierre was, after all, a spy. He was a member of the French Resistance, and a good one. He had been feeding the Allies valuable information for some months, always with the utmost secrecy, as only one slip could easily get him killed.

It was dangerous work, to be sure, but every day he had a reason not to get caught. It was, as is so often the case, a girl. He had met the beautiful Merrien on the road far outside of the town, she had collapsed to the ground in front of his eyes. He had carried her home and nursed her back to health, learning her story as he did so, she was from a village on the front that had been razed by many battles. Her entire family had perished when the house collapsed on top of them, Merrien only surviving by a miracle. She had fled then, heading east without any goal, hoping only to survive long enough to get revenge on the evil men that had killed her family.

He had quickly found in her a kindred spirit. They shared a hatred for the Krauts and she surpassed even him in boldness and fervor. He had taken her in with entirely honorable intentions, but when he was no longer able to distract himself from her form by focusing on her condition, he could not help but notice her beauty. She made no effort to hide it either, and it wasn't long before they shared a bed. And he was certain that there was no woman alive that could match her skill in that regard. She later admitted to trying to seduce him, and that she had become enamored with him after he had saved her, seeing him as her hero. Their relationship had blossomed and flourished over the last couple of months. She was his bright spot in the darkness of war, there at the end of every day with a soothing touch and a listening ear. Pierre was not afraid to admit it, he was in love.

"Mon Cher, I'm home" he called out as he opened the door, then his vision went black.

For just a moment he panicked, worrying that he had been compromised, then he felt the tiny delicate fingers over his eyelids, and heard a giggle behind him. He could feel Merrien lift herself onto tiptoes, "Welcome home my hero, how was your day"

She pulled her hands away and he spun around, pulling her close to him and into a kiss. "Every moment away from you felt like a lifetime of torture" he intoned dramatically

"Well then," she said slowly, fiddling with the tie of her dress, " we shouldn't let _anything_ come between us"

As she said this the dress fell away, revealing her bare body beneath. He wasn't sure how she did it, but even in wartime every inch of her skin was smooth and creamy, as if it had never been touched by the dirt and soot that seemed to be everywhere. He had asked her about it once or twice, but then, like now, he was quickly distracted by her lips on his, her bare body pushing his down onto the nearest horizontal surface.

She slithered down his chest, working the buttons free as if they had never been there. She unfastened his pants pulled him into a standing position. With practiced movements he hopped his way out of his pants without breaking contact with her as they slammed against one wall and then another, making their way to the bedroom.

She laid him out on his back, kneeling over him, her dripping sex poised over his raging need. She began to grind her hips against his, rubbing her sex against his member but not yet allowing it inside.

"Tell me, my hero, did you learn anything about those kraut fuckers?" she moaned breathily

"Uh, yeah," he said, at the point of distraction, "they're planning something big"

"Oh something big?" she asked coyly, sliding down his body so that her face was level with his member. "Is it as big as my Little Pierre" she questioned, her tongue flicking out against the head

He would have chuckled if he could focus on anything but her. This was her foreplay, she had explained it once, she was attracted to power, and in her eyes, there was no greater power than for one man to bring an entire bring an entire army to it's knees, "fuck me harder than you fuck the jerrys" she liked to say.

"I think it, ugh, has to do with," he paused, inhaling sharply as her tongue wrapped around his cock, "Ice Fox"

She stopped, and crawled up to look him in the eyes, her dirty blonde hair framing a wicked grin plastered across her face, "So you finally found those dyke bitches?"

"Yes" he said

"Good" she said, then slammed herself down onto his erection, yelling "Now fuck me! Fuck my cunt like you're going to fuck the spy cunts!"

-Hours Later-

They'd had sex before, but never like that. Merrien had always been a fierce lover, but this time she had been like a woman possessed, each time it seemed like she couldn't possibly be more insatiable, more wild, or more unbelievably skilled, he would tell her something else about their plan to take down Ice Fox and she suddenly made it seem like she was only warming up the moment before. They had finally collapsed out of pure exhaustion, and he woke up spooning up against her. She shifted, turning her head to look up at him.

"Good morning my hero, how's breakfast sound?" She asked, giving him a quick kiss and hopping out of bed without waiting for an answer. She quickly donned his shirt and bounced out to the kitchen, ready to work her magic with the meager foodstuffs they had managed to scrape together.

Pierre lay in the bed for a few minutes, as he listened to her bustling about. As he heard pans clank together he almost forgot that they were in the middle of a war, and wished they could stay like this forever. But, he was broken from his reverie by a crash and a scream. He rushed into the kitchen to see what was wrong, and was greeted by a sight that he had seen before only in his nightmares. Merrien was sprawled out on the floor, and standing over her were 4 men in uniforms synonymous with evil. He rushed at them futilely, but within moments he was beaten down, and his vision faded. He was going to die now, but at least he would be with Merrien.

When he woke up he had both hands cuffed behind him to a steel chair, he was in a small concrete cell, lit by only a single flickering light bulb suspended from the ceiling. As his vision began to clear he heard what sounded like a heavy metal door open and close behind him.

"Hello," Came a heavily accented greeting, "My name is Yuri Dekachoff, and you are going to tell me everything there is to know about the French and their pitiful resistance, or there will be pain. Or at least more pain"

"I'm not telling you shit, so you can fuck off back to whatever kraut-"

*KRACK*

A huge German fist crashed into Pierre's face, interrupting his response, and drawing blood from his lip.

"So, I'm going to ask you a question, and you are going to answer me. Where do you report to?"

"Hell"

*KRACK*

"Oh my poor boy, I'm going to have fun with this" Yuri said, laughing, "You see, you and your friends have been quite a thorn in our side, now it's time for me to return the favor"

And so began a new haze, questions and pain, questions and pain. There was water, he was drenched, and bleeding. Time had passed but he had no idea how much, he could barely think straight, barely speak, but he hadn't given them anything, and even sleep deprived with his head ringing, he took small comfort in the frustration exhibited by his captors over this fact. At some point he had been turned and was now facing the door. He'd had a lot of time to study this door recently, as he sat staring at it, waiting for someone to come through it and the questions to start again. There was yelling outside the door now, then what sounded like a woman's voice, and the door opened again.

In stepped the now familiar face of Yuri Dekachoff, but instead of walking up to Pierre as he usually did to begin his questioning, he stepped, almost meekly, into the corner. Behind him entered a woman Pierre had never seen, but instantly recognized. With only one glance he realized why she had earned the name Ice Queen. Her piercing blue eyes stared him down with a cold indifference he had never felt, the temperature of the room seemed to drop, and he could swear he saw ice crystals in her shock white hair. He averted his eyes, involuntarily looking at her body, she was a beautiful woman, with smooth curves sheathed in a uniform very similar to that worn by SS officers, emblazoned with the insignia of a fox's head superimposed over a snowflake. She wore tall leather boots with a heel, and pair of long knives strapped to each ankle and hip.

Wordlessly, she made the slightest of hand gestures, and he heard female screams, and scuffling. Black hair flailed about as a young girl thrashed about trying to escape the hold of the soldiers dragging her.

"BE STILL!" The Ice Queen commanded suddenly, and the girl stopped, standing just inside the door, she trembled, her face a mask of terror, but she dared not move. Pierre recognized her, it was Merrien, she was alive! The Ice Queen grabbed her by the neck, dragging her in front of Pierre. "So, my little hero" she said with a sneer, "this is your last chance, tell me what I want to know, or I stop torturing you, and I start on the girl."

She began to pace around the terrified girl, running a single finger over her body and around her neck, "You've held out _so well_ I must admit I'm impressed, but how long do you think she will last? How long before she breaks? Minutes? Hours? Days? How long will you be able to listen to her screams? Her pleas for mercy? I suppose we'll find out"

Pierre looked away, reminding himself of the lives his silence saved. He flinched as he heard the sound of tearing cloth and a scream.

" _PLEASE!"_ The girl wailed, " _My Hero! Please! I don't want to die!"_

"Oh aren't you a tasty morsel" The Ice Queen taunted, "Make him look"

Soldiers grabbed Pierre's head and pried open his eyes, clamping them open with some painful metal contraption. He saw the Merrien, now naked, her hands trembling as they tried to cover her modesty. She looked him in the eye, pleading for mercy.

* _KRACK*_

The fist of the Ice Queen struck the girl in the jaw, knocking her to the ground. She looked at Pierre, smug indifference playing across her face "Anything to say?"

When said nothing she simply shrugged and delivered a kick to the girls ribs, then grabbed the girl at the base of her neck and pulled her to her feet. Merrien whimpered as one of the kraut gorillas held her on her feet and The Ice Queen drew one of her knives. Her begging resumed, and tears streamed down her face as the knife touched her milky skin. Her breath caught, and she screamed as it broke skin, a line of red forming where it had been unblemished white.

The screams continued for hours, boring into Pierre's skull. Forced to watch, forced to listen as the love of his life was broken, beaten, and cut. As the hours stretched on, as he looked into her eyes, and listened to her plead for mercy, his perspective began to change. He couldn't do it anymore, he couldn't think about the men he was saving while a girl died before his eyes.

"Stop! Please!" The Ice Queen looked at him, curious, the tip of her blade still poised for another cruel incision, "I'll tell you what you want to know, anything, just please, let her go"

The Ice Queen snapped her fingers and the soldiers let the girl go. She crumpled to the floor, twitching, without the energy or the will to move. He looked down at her, and began to speak. He described hideouts, secret codes, formations, command organization, everything. He shed a tear for the lives that he was destroying as he did so, but all he could think about was the one that he had saved. When he had finished he looked up at the Ice Queen.

"Please Ma'm, that's all I know, just let the girl go. I don't care what happens to me, just please, she doesn't deserve any of this. Just tell her she's free to go and I can die in peace"

"Oh, she's been free to go this entire time, " She said, a wicked grin forming on her face, "just look"

The girl stood, her back to Pierre, seemingly unaffected by the cuts and bruises that covered almost every inch of her body. She shook out her hair and then reached into it. He was confused as pins began to drop to the floor, and his confusion only grew worse when she threw away the blonde hair, which now saw to be a wig, and long red hair tumbled out, why would she hide the color of her hair? And what did it have to do with the Ice Queen? Was she some sort of prostitute? And then she looked at the Ice Queen expectantly over her shoulder, as if to say "a little help?". And the Ice Queen approached, and gently, almost lovingly, began to prod at the scar on Merrien's back that she had never let him touch. It peeled away, leaving only slight gluey residue at the edges. Underneath, on the unscarred skin was a tattoo. A tattoo of the insignia that was emblazoned on the uniform of every soldier here. As she turned to face him, sauntering over to the side of the Ice Queen, he realized his mistake. He had given information, betrayed his comrades, betrayed his country, and doomed hundreds. He had done all of this, to save the Red Fox.

She approached him, straddling his lap and sitting down, so their faces were inches apart.

"So tell me, was it all a lie?"

"Not all of it," She stated casually, as if they were having tea at a café, "I really did enjoy this" she said, clutching his crotch, then she stood, swinging her leg around " I'll see you in hell _my hero_ "

The last words were laced with venom as she drew one of the knives from her sisters belt and in the same motion used it to slice through the man's throat.

Wiping it off on his clothes she handed it back to her sister, "It's good to be back"

"It's good to have you back," Elsa said, stroking the younger girl's hair, "Go get cleaned up and see Olaf, I have something I need to take care of here"

"Alright sis" Anna said, sauntering out through the door.

As soldiers began to file out, Elsa called out "Not you Yuri, men whose failures hurt my sister are no men at all"

That night a pair of soldiers walking by the cell heard inhuman screams uttering forth from it.

"I thought the prisoner was dead" one said to the other

"He is, I helped bury the body" the other responded, "Hey, have you seen Yuri?"

A/N So now you've seen the Ice Queen and the Red Fox at work, what do you think?


End file.
